Page 4 of Dark Sun (Wicked Lovely 6)

The fey couldn't lie. Katherine’s humanity was still intact, more or less, as long as she could lie. That was the working theory.

An inability to lie didn't sound terrible until a person started thinking about all the tiny lies that made up a day. When someone asks "how are you," most people lie. When friends ask, truth is easier, but in general, no one wants to answer that question with awholetruth. "What are you thinking" is another one. The thought of having to always answer thattruthfully was enough for Katherine to wish to have her tongue removed.

"I try not to lie," Katherine offered. This, in general, was true, but the small lies, the little words that helped family not worry, were inevitable. "Touching the steel hurt, but it's not much worse than last month. You don't need to tell mom."

Ida stared at her, silent but obviously disbelieving. "Octavia will be home in three more days. I'll give you till then, but you know we have to tell her."

Her mother was wonderful in a lot of ways, a good mom. Devoted. Fun. She was also all about rules. No speaking to faeries. No exposing her true nature to faeries. Definitely no wandering off with faeries. She'd taught self-defense, both physical and mental, to Katherine since childhood. Swords. Guns. Herbs. Manipulation. If there was a tactic that she thought would protect her daughter, they pursued it. The result was that Octavia Miller was something of a bad-ass in the way that made Katherine feel inept.

"It's kind of you to give me the time," Katherine said, reverting to the childhood lesson that the words "thank you" were empty and insufficient.

She looked at the steel shutter that was now sealing the world outside, preventing them from seeing in and her from seeing out. It wasn't uncommon in their neighborhood. Plenty of shops used them. Most homes had window bars. Most shops had the roll-down steel outside the glass. Her apartment had bars outside and roll-downs inside--mostly because her mother purchased them and mounted them in each rental unit they had as they moved across the country.

"You're changing," Aunt Ida said, admitting what no one else wanted to say. "They'll find you. Find us. Once you’re less like your mother . . ."

And there it was--the thing that made Katherine lie awake at night, the detail that somehow both terrified and excited her. She didn't want the fey folk to find her family, but sometimes, when she let herself think of it, she wanted them to findher.Katherine remembered her father to a degree, but she didn't know another single faery.

What if he had other children? Were there siblings out there?

She knew that faeries like him--gancanaghs—were promiscuous. He'd been with fey and humans, more humans than he should've considering that he was literally addictive to them. She wasn't sure if she was addictive, too. If Katherine was, that meant she could nevereverhave a human boyfriend. So, her choices were to be single for her entire life or find a faery who didn't mind that she was part human . . . assuming she wasn't taken prisoner or killed for being half-fey.

Her father swore that the eldest of the faery queens kidnapped and imprisoned halflings like Katherine. Crossing the oldest faery queen sounded awful, but so did crossinganyfaery queen--the others he’d spoken of sounded wretched awful, too.

So single forever, that was to be her fate.

It could work. Really. It wasn't like she had any interest in being loved or . . . ugh. She couldn't even lie in her own head. Katherine was half-in-love with the mere idea of being loved, of being kissed, but she wasn't horrible enough to kiss some defenseless human boy or girl to find out if she was addictive to humans.

That left captivity or death.

Sometimes she hated her father, who had been entirely selfish enough to kiss human after human.

ChapterTwo

Aislinn

Although the Summer Queen was not exactly expecting the appearance of her halfling uncle, she knew who Urian was when he strolled into her court. Shadows danced across the floor, as if they wanted to get closer, to touch, to meld with him. And had she been as insecure as she was when she took the throne of the Summer Court, Aislinn might have trembled at the anger in his every step and breath.

Instead, Aislinn found herself studying the stranger. She wouldn’t have needed her great-grandfather’s warning that the older faery was angry or the knowledge of a surprise relative to recognize Urian. Helookedlike family in some intangible way. Shadow-dark skin and what would’ve been a twin to her own dark hair before sunlight changed her.

“What shall I call you?” Urian didn’t even lower his gaze, despite standing before a queen.

Aislinn waited.

“Niece?”

She smiled but said nothing.

“Ash girl?”

The Summer Court guards eased closer, and at that moment, Ash felt a flicker of fear. Urian grinned at their approach, even as he stood with his father’s arrogance, unbowed and bold. Some of the same wicked glint that Irial often had glimmered in his gaze.

Briefly, she wondered if this is what Irial had been like before he’d found love. If so, it was no wonder that the former Dark King was so feared—or perhaps, this was what he was like when he’d lost his love? Either way, there was a tempering strength in love, a power that eased the edges of darkness.

Urian had nothing to ease the edges of the rage that seemed to animate him, and it made her fear him a little more. Aislinn lifted a hand to stop the guards who started to move closer.

“Murderess?” Urian whispered the word.

“Queen,” Aislinn said louder.

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